Flickers
by batnoodlefreak
Summary: 'We all live in a house of fire. No fire department to call. No way out. Just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down... with us trapped, locked in it." What do you do when you love somebody so much that they're not another person, they're another part of you, the most important part, and they get taken away from you?


Hello people I have never met and probably never will. Thank you for clicking on this title yoke-ma-bob! After reading the chapter you may regret doing so, but then again maybe you won't! First fanfiction so it's not going to be great but if you give it a chance, that would be great!

Don't own anything, just playing around with the glorious J.K Rowling's creations.

How many times? How many times had they gone through this? Again and again, running circles in each other's lies only to always, always to end up here.

* * *

He stared at her through blood-shot eyes. Were they that way from sadness or anger? She didn't know. I guess either did he. Chaos surrounded them. A broken wooden chair with splintered edges pointing in all directions, the shattered crystal vase that looked more expensive than it actually was, the millions of crushed pieces of fine china the girl's grandmother left her and a photo frame that held a smiling couple in a staged moment of happiness.

Before she could blink he was there. Right in front of her, towering over her tiny figure. She was shaking. He raised his hand and brushed her cheek. A tear fell from her eyes. He smiled. Blood flowed out of the gaps from his teeth. Dripping down his chin, droplets falling onto his muddy white shirt. She knew that this is how she would die, by his hand, but she couldn't turn away. Not know. So instead of pulling back and running away, she stayed. She leaned up to capture his mouth with hers. Blood entered her mouth. She wanted to gag, but before she could he grabbed her hips and thrust her forcefully against the nearest wall. The sound of a picture frame hitting the floor and smashing against the wooden floor roared in her ears. A shard of glass stuck into her bare leg. She couldn't feel anything, except him.

His hands were everywhere now, touching caressing her, until she was trembling. She backed even further into the unforgiving wall. She felt sick. She shouldn't be doing this. It was supposed to stop. But why? She asked herself. They weren't hurting anyone, only themselves. This was a lie of course. What they were doing would devastate everyone they loved. It was worth it though. Wasn't it?

Her hands that were tangled in his soft hair, slowly started to get lower. When she reached the hem of his shirt she tore it off his torso. She should have been surprised at her moment of strength, but just figured the material was cheap. Or that maybe she needed this more than she let herself believe. His firm body was all hers. Hers. She never really had anything all to herself before. Well not like this. Not like him. Soon her shirt joined his on the floor. Skin against skin. It should be familiar this sensation, but it felt new, like they'd never done this before.

He lowered his lips to her jaw, then lower and lower until he hovered at her collarbones. Then he started nipping and sucking, lower still until he finally got to his destination. She gasped and threw her head back. Hard. He smirked and she looked down. Blood now covered her chest. Was he still bleeding? Should she help him? Then he went back to what he was doing before and it didn't matter.

She didn't notice when he took off her skirt. Or her bra. Or her panties, for that matter. Everything around her was cloudy, disfigured yet he was crystal clear. His messy hair was where her hands forever need to linger and tussle in, his handsome face were what her eyes needed to eternally stare at and his muscular body belonged pressed up against hers. It was all she had. She had to cling to it.

He entered her suddenly. Rough and hard. Angry, he was angry. Why was he angry she asked? But she got no answer and suddenly remembered the day's events. How could she forget? Because it hurts too much to remember, a voice in her mind said. It wasn't her voice though, whose was it? The answer was dancing at the edge of her mind, but why did she care. He was here. With her. And the rest of the world could wait.

She responded promptly, grabbing him in the places where she knew would make him groan. Swiftly he turned them around and they were falling, falling and with an awkward crash they fell to the floor. They didn't stop. Broken glass from earlier were scraping into their skin, scraping every surface.

Pressure was building up on her. She was ready to fall. To fly. Right over the edge. She gasped his name the same moment he whispered hers. He went faster then until they both went over that hurdle, together.

In the aftermath, they lay there in the result of their earlier anger. Both bleeding and broken. He pulled out of her and stood. She noticed idly that his mouth had stopped bleeding. It had crusted around his mouth and contrasted greatly against his pale face. He looked frightful in the dim light.

She wondered what she looked like to him.

He slowly started collecting his clothes and even slower put them on. She followed his league. She didn't want her fiancé to catch her now, did she? A few quick cleaning and repair spells and the room were as good as new.

Both dressed, they stood in awkward silence. She looked up from the pristine floor to see him staring at her. She cursed herself for the dark blush that crossed her cheeks. He smirked. Git.

Hermione finally opened her mouth to say something but she choked. Her head was whirling, anger, lust, hatred and shame. And though it pained her further, she had to admit that only one of these emotions was aimed at the man in front of her. The rest were all directed at herself. Being who he is, he saved her. How many times was that now?

"I-eh... Granger, I'm sorry I know we said that we wouldn't, wouldn't. Look today, was just a mistake. And-" His voice was rough and sounded... sad. Why was he sad? He should be angry.

"A mistake?"

"Yeah"

"Ok. You better go, Ron will be back soon."

"Oh yes of course, Ron, yeah. How is, ehm, he?" This time the sadness completely left his voice being replaced with a flustering embarrassment.

"Good. You really should-"

"Yeah, I'll see you around then", he was already out the door before I could reply.

She looked around at her perfect home, everything in its perfect place. She took a step toward the stairs and felt a shooting pain from places all over her body. Looking down she finally took note of what an utter state she was. She quickly took out her wand, and presto, now she was perfect too.

She looked longingly at the front door. Maybe, she could go after him, and tell him just to save her this one last time, but knew deep down that she couldn't do that. Be that selfish. So she did the only thing she could. She let him go.

"Goodbye, Fred".

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Woah, you got to the end! This is odd, knowing that there is a huge chance no one will ever read this but hey, I gave it a go ! If you are reading, you amazing wonderful person you, review please? Even if you hate it? Actually especially if you hate it. I love critism, anything that keeps me up crying at night has to be a good thing.


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